Once Upon a Miserable Girl's Plight
by it's a riot
Summary: Lily was not looking for love. In fact, she was doing everything in her power to avoid it. But then he had to come along and wreck everything...COMPLETE!
1. Jaded, Cynical and Misunderstood

**_Once Upon a Miserable Girl's Plight..._**

**Summary:** Lily was not looking for love. In fact, she was doing everything in her power to avoid it. But then _he_ had to come along and wreck everything...

**Disclaimer:** Read this and weep, for I am not J.K. Rowling and thus have no secrets to give you about anything concerning Harry Potter. The plot is mere speculation on my part and the characters most definitely do _not_ belong to me.

**Chapter One:** Jaded, Cynical and 'Misunderstood'

There are many different kinds of people in this world. Each one with a different appearance. A shield, if you will. Everyone has one thing that they deeply desire... That they think will complete them. Despite outward appearances of what they want, whether it be money or popularity, every person in the world secretly wants to be loved. Be in love. To feel the deep impression that love can leave upon you is a moment to cherish and a desperate curse to be burned.

When a person is in love, that person must learn to make sacifices. Learn to compromise a part of themself that otherwise, the person would leave be without another thought. Relationships can go horribly wrong just based on how much a person is willing to compromise. Some compromise too much, some too little.

But with those sacifices comes the greatest feeling of ecstacy. Also with it comes a feeling of hopefulness that, despite the most horrible problems in life, all of it can be overcome because the love that is shared will see them through it. It is that feeling of hope that can drive people to bare through their darkest days and make the days filled with contentment all the more enjoyable and perfect.

Despite everything Lily Evans had heard about love, she was determined not to ever fall in love.

To call her a jaded cynic was nothing of an insult to her. On the contrary, she might actually be quite pleased that someone took the time to realize this and not just label her as 'misunderstood'. Oh, she wasn't hated for her view on love... Actually, most people didn't notice. They thought of Lily as the nice girl in Gryffindor who was just shy when it came to boys.

Oh... how horribly wrong they were...

**_Author Note:_** I solemnly swear that as things progress, chapters _will_ be longer.


	2. The Depression of Mistletoe

**_Once Upon a Miserable Girl's Plight..._**

**Okay, still not as long as I had hoped for, but what can I say… Lily had nothing more to say. ; )**

**Disclaimer:** Read this and weep, for I am not J.K. Rowling and thus have no secrets to give you about anything concerning Harry Potter. The plot is mere speculation on my part and the characters most definitely do _not_ belong to me.

**Chapter Two:** The Depression of Mistletoe

_December 25, Fourth Year Dormitories_

This is quite sad, you know. Just sitting here on Christmas Day, wishing you were somewhere else.

I used to like Christmas. Honestly. It was a nice holiday filled with joy and happiness that could be seen around the world. The fresh pine tree smell of the Christmas tree, the brightly wrapped presents under its festive and cheery branches... The aroma of sweet smells and hot chocolate with marshmallows floating from the kitchen to tickle your senses... It all seemed so...perfect. Like nothing could ever be better than December twenty-fifth.

Hogwarts was no exception to the traditional loveliness of Christmas. I think that is part of what is making me so sick of Hogwarts at the moment, really. All of the mistletoe hanging from the entrance ways, courtesy of Potter and his friends, and the ghosts singing Christmas carols... It was _too_ cheery and _too_ cliché. Except for the fact that the only place where ghosts sing Christmas carols is at Hogwarts.

But the singing was bad enough.

Don't get me wrong, I act cheery at times and especially around Christmas. If I didn't, people might start to wonder. But when I was alone in my dormitory and staring blankly at the boring ceiling that's only interesting note was that it had a moving picture of my roommate's favorite singer, Stubby Boardman; I was free to feel however I liked.

Misery loved company and my company at the moment was Stubby Boardman, a stupid poster of a young man grinning cheekily at me. How utterly depressing, right?

Oh well... There is a feast going on at the moment, but I haven't much of an appetite. I feel incredibly stupid for being so depressed on such a nice holiday but I don't quite know how else to feel.

As I lay here on my bed, I keep thinking of all of the things the letter said. My sister didn't want me to come home for Christmas. 'Why bother,' the letter had stated, 'When you really are not welcome?'

Now I don't know about a normal person, because quite frankly I'm not all that normal, but if your mother disappeared, would you not want your sister home for Christmas? I know that right now my father is in a state. Why would Petunia not want help consoling him? She gave the excuse that she did not want 'one more annoyance that could throw her over the edge.'

I hardly think I'm an annoyance, but apparently, I'm just the thing to push Petunia over the edge.

God, it must be hell for my father at this point. Mom has been missing for weeks, and still, there's not a trace of her. I cannot imagine the pain he is going through. To be so deeply in love with someone and suddenly, you wake up to find that they have disappeared forever. And that there's not a trace that they actually left except the missing body and the depressing hole that lays in your heart, screaming out in agony...

If I ever disappear or... die (I can hardly utter the word in conjunction with my mother without having tears well up in my eyes), I want the whole world to shake. I want it to be known and discovered around the world that someone who means something to someone else has been lost. It sounds selfish, I know... But I truly believe that is the way it should be for everyone. Everyone has a role in someone's life, changes someone's life...and they don't even know it. So that is why everyone should have the honor of affected the world and let it be known that they changed the world in some small way...

I just hope my mother isn't dead. She had...has so much life and so much of it left to live...

It's just so horribly ironic. Christmas is supposed to be a time for happiness and family unity... What the hell happened? She just can't be gone... She just can't...

I know... I'll think of something happy.

The mistletoe Sirius Black hung on our dormitory doorway is still there. Bertha Jorkins came to talk to Marlene McKinnon yesterday in our dormitory and she caught him under it. I think he may have been trying to get Marlene under it, but instead, he got a snog from Bertha. It was quite amusing at the time.

My mother always liked mistletoe. She would put it up in our house and go on about how she had her first kiss under mistletoe. "You fall in love under it," she used to say. She was always one of those hopeless romantics. So was my father... Honestly, I think that's why they got along so well. Similar chemistry. That's where they had their first kiss together and ever since, Mom has always hung up mistletoe for Christmas. But now, I can't imagine my father putting up mistletoe this year in his current state.

I have to look away from the stupid plant. If I don't I'm going to start crying again. So I'll look at Stubby Boardman. Marlene fancies him quite a bit, but I don't really see the intrigue. In fact, she fancies just about any boy. If Sirius had gotten her under the idiotic plant I will not name for fear of screaming she would have kissed him. But I don't hold that against her... Boys can be interesting in both bad ways and good.

But I don't necessarily want to think about boys either.

I just want to go home, have a nice Christmas just like I used to have every year, and open presents while watching my parents share a loving kiss under the mistletoe.

Somehow, I don't think I'm going to get what I want this Christmas.


	3. Meet You at St Mungo’s

**_Once Upon a Miserable Girl's Plight..._**

**Disclaimer:** Read this and weep, for I am not J.K. Rowling and thus have no secrets to give you about anything concerning Harry Potter. The plot is mere speculation on my part and the characters most definitely do _not_ belong to me.

**Chapter Three:** Meet You at St. Mungo's

_April, Fourth Year _

I must say, I hate mornings with a deep rooted passion.

Especially at Hogwarts too, where they expect you to wake up at insanely early hours to start class. True, I don't have to get up for breakfast if I don't choose to but technically speaking I don't choose to wake up so early.

Marlene, whose bed is strategically placed next to mine, always insists upon being so bloody loud when she gets up in the morning.

Take for example this morning; I was trying to keep the wonderful dream I was having (about my mother's death being a hoax and she shows up at Hogwarts, looking for me) and she insisted on throwing her clothes about the room when she couldn't find something absolutely perfect for Sirius Black to see her in. Just like (practically) every other female at Hogwarts, she devotes a good chunk of her time to getting him to notice her. A bit of time wasted, if you ask me. If a boy isn't going to notice you in the first place it's not like he's going to notice you after you've made yourself over. And if he does, then he's not worth it because that shows he's just a shallow, stupid boy with an agenda.

I've had a lot of time to think, all right?

Anyway, half of Marlene's clothes are piled on my bed and then she decides it would be a good idea to wake me up. I believe I've told her sweetly (as I am as nice as can be, I suppose) a million times that I cannot stand mornings but she still hasn't seemed to grasp the concept.

Morning, sunrise, irritable Lily...

Night, sunset, less irritable Lily...

It's not so hard, is it?

"Lily...come 'on... Wake up, Lily, I need your help," she said as she pulled her clothes off of my bed covers. "Besides, you can come with to breakfast early and get the sausages that you claim disappear before you get a chance to eat them."

Bloody hell, like sausages are going to make up for interrupting the perfectly wonderful dream I was having before she shook me awake?

Sometimes I wish I could sleep all day. In dreams, my mother is alive and well; in life, well... everything is so screwed up.

"Someone better be dying in the Common room is all I have to say," I mumbled and pushed my covers off of me and sat up.

"Well... not exactly," she giggled perkily. She giggled. Perkily. At six-thirty in the morning! I could just hex her at the moment but my mind was too groggy to think of any good curses. She went on, "I was just wondering how I should go down to the Great Hall. Should I wear my school uniform? How should I do my hair? Up or down?"

Well, if I'm awake and not going back to bed anytime soon (which judging by the looks of indecision on her face, I wasn't) I might as well answer her question. After all, I don't want to be known as the class prat for being mean.

"Umm...," I scratched my head, desperately wanting to go back to sleep, "Wear your uniform, since you hate to change after breakfast and put your hair up."

I collapsed back down onto my bed and closed my eyes.

5...4...3...2...

"So how are you going down to breakfast?"

The follow-up question to keep the conversation going; it was classic Marlene.

"Like this," I answered, sitting back up.

"In your pajamas?" She asked with a shocked look on her face as she pinned her curls up on the back of her head.

"Why not?" I mumbled getting out of bed. Sleep was lost on me now. I knew that any minute Marlene would want be to go down to breakfast with her. You know that whole, 'Girls travel in pairs' thing. So true and so utterly stupid. Although there is strength in numbers, sometimes you just have to do things by yourself and be a big girl about it. Sadly enough, it is one of the very few things I learned from Petunia, as she was no support to me when I went to muggle school. In fact, she refused to acknowledge me as her sister in primary school. I, likewise, refuse to acknowledge her now, at all.

"Don't you care what people will think?"

I smiled brazenly at her and glanced at my fleece sweater and muggle pajama bottoms. "Not particularly."

She finished pinning up the last curl and turning to me, said, "So are you ready then?"

Am I ready?

I'm the one that jumped out of bed to go to breakfast with her at her request while she got herself all tidied up for some boy and she's wondering if _I'm ready?_

I found a pair of flat shoes and socks, slipped them on quickly and replied, "Nearly."

Quickly, I glanced in the mirror at my reflection and decided that my hair was no use. It would look exactly the same, even if I brushed it, since it's curly.

As soon as I had my shoes on, I followed her down the staircase and into the Common room. I was just eager to get down to breakfast and find something to eat. Enduring hunger was never a strong suit of mine.

Once we had reached the Great Hall doors, Marlene had informed me of how her whole family was doing and who her crush of the week was. Of course, if you couldn't already guess, it was Sirius Black. "He has such perfect hair," she informed me as a dreamy look crept onto her face, "And his eyes, he has got the most gorgeous grey eyes. Like a cross between silver and a stormy blue."

_Yeah, but what about his personality?_ I thought and was very tempted to ask. There is much more to a person (one can only hope) than how good they look in a school uniform.

Quite suddenly, when we sat down at the Gryffindor table, Sirius Black came into view. Once I thought about it, it made sense what location Marlene had chosen to sit at. Our plates at the table were only a few plates over and across from Sirius and his friends.

And the toast I wanted was right in between Sirius and James Potter. Marlene blushed and let out a giggle as she helped herself to some eggs and then passed them to me.

"Their looking this way," she whispered to me and let a big smile escape from her lips.

"Yes and I glance in their general direction every now and then too, but that doesn't mean I'm looking at them," I responded, feeling irritable again. I mean, it wasn't like they had proclaimed their love for her; they were just resting their eyes in random places. No offense to my gender, but girls can make something out of nothing sometimes.

"I forgot you're not a morning person," Marlene laughed, "Well, once you get some food, you'll feel better."

"Yeah, I will," I said, smiling back slightly. Then I looked over at Sirius and James. "Hey," I said, trying to get their attention, "Excuse me, but could you pass the toast?"

"Sure," Sirius said with a grin and grabbed the plate. But instead of just passing the plate across the table, he felt inclined to get up and walk all the way down to the end of the table and then back up my side to literally hand me the toast.

"Thank you," I said and turned around to greet him, somewhat flattered, I suppose, "But that wasn't necessary."

"Oh, but it was," he countered grinning at me, "It was worth it to see you two young ladies looking so ravishing this morning."

Marlene giggled while I rolled my eyes.

"So you don't have eyes when you sit across the table?"

"Yes, I do, but I also have a message for you," he answered still with a smile that graced his features quite well.

I was surprised, to say the least. I don't normally talk to Sirius or his friends all that often. "And that would be...?"

Sirius shared a grin with James and then looked back at me. "Well," he started, "We were going to ask you this in History of Magic, but since, it seems we have you here for conversation... James was wondering if you'd fancy coming with him on the next Hogsmeade trip. You know, to the Three Broomsticks."

He shot me a wink as James laughed in the background.

The nerve of him, I must say, to ask me this in the Great Hall, of all places and then wink at me. Like I'm supposed to bow down to him and bestow a crown upon him while Marlene rolls out the red carpet... Are you joking me?

"Well, messenger, you can tell James that I think I'll say no this time," I answered smoothly and politely as possible, "Although, it has been wonderful talking to you, I hope it was worth the walk, and thank you very much for the toast."

And with that, I spun around in my seat to help myself to some toast and saw James' face falter for a second, but then recover smiling.

------------------------------

_Later that Day_

"He just asked her out, just like that?" Alice inquired of Marlene as Marlene giggled incessantly.

"Basically," she said, as we walked down the corridors to our History of Magic classroom.

I had now heard this story so many times I could recite the way Marlene told it, word for word. It wasn't such a big deal. They had just asked me out as a joke anyway. It wasn't like they really meant it. But somehow, Marlene didn't get that point.

Alice turned to me. "Lily, you should have said yes. You know every girl is dying to date those boys."

"Everyone except me," I mumbled and shifted my backpack to my other shoulder, "Besides, I don't want to go out with anyone at the moment. Schoolwork and stuff has got me busy enough."

That wasn't exactly a straight answer. I just didn't want to date anyone. Yeah, I thought guys were cute but I also found them to be an incredible waste of time. Boys my age weren't the kind of guys I wanted to have relationships with (immature would sum it up in one word) and ever since I found out it the circumstances of my mom's disappearance, I didn't really trust them. They caused problems and heartache and never batted an eyelash at what they had done. So for now, I was going to steer clear of them. I was only fourteen, it wasn't like I needed a boy to 'complete me.'

We had arrived at the door of the classroom, so I rushed in quietly while they continued talking about how I couldn't see the amazing something in Sirius' eyes and sat down with some Hufflepuffs.

"Did you see the creature Hagrid has now?" Davy Gudgeon, who was in front of me, asked the girl next to me excitedly.

I willing joined into the conversion. Anything that had nothing to do with James Potter and Sirius Black suited me at the moment.

Once everyone had filed into the room and had taken seats, it was only a matter of waiting for the Professor to show up. It was quite odd, actually, because Professor Binns was rarely late to class. He usually was sitting at the front of the classroom, waiting for it to come to order while he wrote out the lesson plan for the day.

Well, he did show up eventually. The only thing was when he did, not all of him showed up. The ghost of him glided through the chalkboard and into the room... but the rest of him, the rest of him seemed to be missing.

We all just sort of sat there in shock while Binns started murmuring on about the history of goblins. Finally, James, of all people, came to his senses as he said, "Well, shouldn't someone go find Dumbledore?" When no one volunteered, he excused himself to the restroom through Binns and dashed into the hallway.

Binns just droned on like nothing had happened.

I didn't know I had suddenly transferred into St. Mungo's. I swear, things at this school just keep getting weirder and weirder. Even by Hogwarts standards.


	4. Broken Smiles Behind Photographs

**_Once Upon a Miserable Girl's Plight..._**

**I am going to attempt to finish this before July 16th but that probably won't happen as this story will be about ten chapters long when I've finished it. I will still try, though, so watch this for updates.**

** -Kait**

**Disclaimer** Read this and weep, for I am not J.K. Rowling and thus have no secrets to give you about anything concerning Harry Potter. The plot is mere speculation on my part and the characters most definitely do _not_ belong to me.

**Chapter Four:** Broken Smiles Behind Photographs

_September 1st, Fifth Year_

Photographs are a funny thing when it comes to their differences from the wizarding world and the, well, what Petunia might call the _normal_ world.

Most of the photographs I have are muggle ones and the thing about those is that they capture a moment. I take that back, though. Especially considering that half the time you are told to get together and smile. In that sense, all a normal picture does is capture a neat little pose that would look quite unnatural to most people if a camera wasn't in front of you.

Magical pictures, I like to think, capture the essence of a person. It's kind of like how some people (the superstitious ones, I suspect) think that a photograph steals a little bit of a person's soul. In those pictures, you see what the person was thinking during the picture, how they normally act, how they smile... Gentle reminders of what the person is like in life.

I only think of this because I'm currently packing for Hogwarts and some of the old photo albums my mother made for me to take to Hogwarts every year are in my hands, waiting to be stuffed into my trunk among the school books and clothes. They contain numerous photographs of my family and I, my friends from primary school, our house... Almost anything that someone could possibly get homesick over. With my mother's sense of humor, in the books you can always find some random pictures of a closet with the door closed and Petunia nearly tripping over the neighborhood stray cat.

My mother, I believe, would share my opinion on normal photographs. She hated it when Petunia and I would pose for pictures. She always liked to take pictures when we were unaware that there was a camera around. Hence why there was a picture of me sticking my hands in my birthday cake when I was seven and so eager for that delicious chocolate cake.

And even though I have a few photographs of my mother, caught while she was unaware of the camera, somehow, I wish I had a wizarding picture of her. Then maybe I could remember exactly how she would twirl her hair around her fingertips or laugh openly at a little joke. I was beginning to forget the little things about her personality; her habits, her little crazy quirks...and I hated myself for it.

So in order to forget why I felt so angry with myself, I quickly set the photo albums in my trunk and looked down to see what I had left to pack.

Next to me is a photograph I found on the street in Diagon Alley. You tend to notice things when you walk down the streets alone. My father, who is still understandably shaken up about my mother's death, might normally have come with me but under the circumstances... And Petunia, she wouldn't be caught dead...

Well, the photograph is another reminder of Hogwarts. I suppose it was left about by James Potter or Sirius Black as it is a picture of the two of them in the Three Broomsticks. They look so natural in the picture with their usual habits evident. Potter is sitting on the left, rumpling his hair and grinning haphazardly as if he knows a prank somewhere is about to be pulled. Sirius Black is seated next to him, poking James stealthily in the in the back and winking to someone off-camera who, by my general instincts, is no doubt, a girl.

It is the perfect photograph to classify them as what they are. Two silly boys who enjoy getting into trouble. It was just the sort I'm sure my mother would have loved, had she seen them. They seemed to be proper and charming when they needed to be and darting away from hexes when they stepped on the wrong person's toes.

But boys could be as proper and charming as the greatest salesmen and I still wouldn't trust them. My own mother had been charmed into accepting a lunch date with a man we all thought to be a family friend. If only she hadn't, maybe I wouldn't be dreaming of having enchanted photographs to remind me of how her hair used to fall into her eyes and how she brushed it back... Did she brush it back or did she gingerly toss her hair out of her eyes? Anyway, it wasn't much use to me now to try and find out... She was gone. It had taken me all summer to accept it but now I did. She was gone and there was nothing I could do to bring her back.

I could feel tears welling up in my eyes again. Now that I was back at home, her death seemed so much stronger. Maybe it was that I was away at school, so I hadn't had little reminders of her wherever I went. In every room, there were a million different things that made my heart scream out in agony, 'I know she's gone but can I just be allowed to pretend for one minute!' But there was no way to pretend. I had no one to tell my secrets to. She had always been my confidant; the one person I told everything to. From all the details I told her about Hogwarts, she probably knew the school better than I did. She used to watch me with an amused look on her face as I begged her to let me hex Petunia when she would tell me off. There was nothing, nothing that could replace that. Oh, I desperately wished that there was someone or something that could fill that void, but there was nothing. It was just me, alone in my room; trying to pack away all of my things before tears were splattered on everything.

_That stupid, hateful man_, I thought while I packed away my Hogwarts Prefect badge and some black socks. _Why did he have to kill her?_

I used to consider him something of an uncle. At dinner parties, Petunia and I would give him hugs before he left for home. How could we have trusted him? And how could he, how could he have betrayed that trust? He had confessed something of the sort that she "knew too much." What could that possibly mean? I hated him for what he did. Why didn't he just rip my heart out and feed it to a Red Cap instead? It felt like that was what he had done. I had never experienced an intense and hollow pain such as this.

I couldn't stop the tears from coming now. The least I could do was reach up for a tissue from the desk next to me and use it to quickly cover up my tears.

I had had photographs of that man in my albums at one point. Once I found out what he had done, I took the liberty of ripping them out of the leather bound volumes and reducing them to ashes with my wand. Now when I think about him I wonder why I never saw the horribleness in his cold, dead eyes.

It is the worst feeling; to be betrayed deeply by someone you trusted. And as my father calls up faintly to say that it's nearly time to leave for the train station, I think about how it only took fifteen years for me to figure this out.


	5. Fireworks

**_Once Upon a Miserable Girl's Plight..._**

**Hey! First up, reviews and critiques!**

** _Remmy ish Mine_- Thanks for your review! Nice and long, just how I like to give and get reviews! I just want to clarify what you said about Lily "blaming all males." If it came off that way, it wasn't my intention. Lily doesn't _blame_ males for what happened to her mother, but rather she is a bit afraid to get too close to a boy (like her mother, who was good friends with her attacker) and does not want to give someone trust that could easily be broken. She feels this way about everyone (males and females alike) but it is true that Lily is being quite ignorant in her mistrust in boys. I personally don't feel that way about boys or anything, but because of the plot I have in mind, it is almost necessary that Lily not trust boys. Although all the stuff in Chapter 3 about boys being shallow and most other cynical views on boys (like the quote "They caused problems and heartache and never batted an eyelash at what they had done.") are part of Lily's character that would have been there in this story whether her mother had died or not. I hope this helps you understand what I meant for Lily's thoughts and feelings to seem like. Sometimes I make things more dramatic than they really are.**

** Whew, that was long winded... Well, onwards with Chapter 5 and thanks to everyone else who has reviewed this along the way. Please keep reviewing and letting me know what you think of this story.**

** -Kait**

**Disclaimer** Read this and weep, for I am not J.K. Rowling and thus have no secrets to give you about anything concerning Harry Potter. The plot is mere speculation on my part and the characters most definitely do _not_ belong to me.

**Chapter Five:** Fireworks

_December & January, Fifth Year_

If I come across one more Fillibuster firework while I'm patrolling the corridor as Prefect duties, I am going to pull a Potter and hex someone.

Oh, it's all well and dandy for Remus Lupin, who always seems to have been missed by fireworks when I pass him in the hall. But as Frank Longbottom pointed out to me earlier this evening, it is probably his friends setting the stupid things off, so it makes sense that the fireworks go no where near him while he's patrolling.

I suppose one of the boys got a few cases of them for Christmas. I wonder if the prat who sent them the fireworks realized that in doing so, they would be disrupting every student's life at Hogwarts.

Luckily, I was going to be relieved from Prefect duties in a couple minutes. I could see Davy Gudgeon walking towards me, wand out, incase of any more spare fireworks.

"You can go back to your dormitory for the night," he said, looking at me as I heaved a sigh of relief.

"You know, you just saved the whole Gryffindor common room from being hexed," I told him, smiling slightly.

"That's nice," he replied vaguely. I suppose he saw something zooming down the hallway, but I decided it would be better to just head straight for the common room than to look back.

"See you," I called as I hurried off, out of the politeness that my mother had instilled upon my brain while I was young.

Once in the common room, I looked around. I wasn't truly in the mood to talk to anyone (especially not Marlene, as her new obsession was James Potter) but rather I felt the need to be alone. People commented that I had been doing that a lot lately but I didn't particularly care. What was I to do when I still got the occasional sympathetic look from someone when I least expected it? Most people knew that my mother had died but I suppose that people were just catching on now that that was the reason I had become so quiet. I suppose that wasn't completely true though. I had spent so much more time this year on schoolwork and studying that I barely had time to think about her or the rest of my family. I just... threw myself into schoolwork.

But I had been dwelling on a thought all day. I missed my family and my house and...everything. It was quite an odd feeling...but it did seem to happen nearly every year. That's why my mother always made me the photo albums, I suppose. She wanted to make sure I had something to remember them all by.

Father didn't seem to be feeling any better lately than he had felt before. I wished I could help him. I wrote him letters weekly; the letters I would have normally addressed to my mother. I told him about life at Hogwarts and how the common room was the worst place to study because with a certain few Gryffindors there, you are never guaranteed a quiet setting. It just sort of... depressed me that I couldn't be there for him the way Petunia could be, since she was at home.

So I dragged myself up to my dormitory and past all of my giggling roommates to collect my picture albums. They were stuffed under some old socks and an extra school robe in my trunk. It was horror to have to walk past all those perky, smiling girls who were gossiping incessantly about some Hufflepuff boy and how Bertha Jorkins had been hexed by Sirius Black for spreading around an ugly rumor about him and his brother.

It was insane how cut off Hogwarts was from the rest of the world. There were so many problems going on outside of Hogwarts in the Wizarding world and even the Muggle world but yet all these girls seemed to notice was how nice looking some boy was. Couldn't they see what was happening in the world? Hadn't they seen the report in the paper about some Death Eaters' attack on the Prewetts? We were so confined, so safe and content in our little haven from the rest of the world and I couldn't understand it. But I really didn't want to spend more time thinking about it. There were so many horrors happening around us and maybe that was why Hogwarts was so appealing as a haven from the rest of the world. But I suppose in the end, we were all going to die anyway...

With that heavy thought on my mind, I grabbed the albums and rushed downstairs before I could be sucked into the conversation I had witnessed my dormitory.

Settling into my favorite comfy armchair by the fire, I started paging through the photographs and smiled when a particular photo I liked came up. It was almost soothing to flip through the pages methodically. I just sat there, freeing myself of emotion while I smiled and frown slightly with each page until I saw someone's shadow creep over the photographs.

"Still studying, Evans?" the voice came softly from above.

"No," I replied hotly as James Potter sat down in the chair next to mine, his eyes glittering, "I'm looking through some pictures."

"You dropped one," he said with a grin as he pointed to it just next to my ankle and then made to pick it up, "Here, I've got it."

He stared at the photograph in his hand for a moment. It was a wizarding picture and it definitely wasn't mine. For one thing, it was the picture I had found of him and Sirius in Diagon Alley a few months ago. It must have been with the books and must have fallen out when I picked up the first book. He looked up from it to give me a quizzical glance. It was a glance that felt as though he was trying to read my mind and gauge my thoughts on the photograph. I felt myself start to blush slightly. _He didn't think I stole it or something, did he?_

"Where did you get this?" he asked with an even wider grin (if possible) on his face than before.

"I found it in Diagon Alley," I answered simply. There was no point in lying, really. "I meant to give it back to one of you, but I forgot I even had it."

"I'm sure you did, Evans," he said as though he didn't believe me at all and raised his hand to his head to start messing up his hair.

Like I needed this. The last thing I wanted him to think was that I fancied him.

"Well, you've got it now, haven't you, Potter?"

I stated it bluntly, in hopes that he would take a hint and get away from me. Closing the album softly and gathering them together I readied myself to get out of there quickly but there was a group of girls taking their sweet time coming down the dormitory steps.

"Yes, I do," he started as he leaned a little closer to me; his smile was practically illuminating the whole room. But it was something in his eyes that startled me and I had to look away. "But I haven't gotten you to go to--"

I didn't quite hear the end of what he said because the group of girls had finally learned the meaning of 'walk' and I bolted up out of my chair and up the dormitory steps.

My breath caught in my throat as I lay in my bed, the hangings closed, a few minutes later.

James Potter, talking to me, making me blush (which I try to avoid doing, at all costs... although if you really think about it, it was the photograph that made me turn red), and then seemingly starting to ask me out? But was he serious?

And why did I care? _No, I didn't_, I reasoned, _I was just merely curious._

That must have been it. Because James Potter was a prat who went around hexing people in the corridors and driving Prefects such as myself mad with his stupid antics. I didn't like him at all. He was the kind of boy that could easily break a girl's heart; I had seen it before.

I rolled over in my bed and closed my eyes, unwilling to let those thoughts to dwell in my mind anymore.


	6. Wasted Clues on the Oblivious

**_Once Upon a Miserable Girl's Plight..._**

**Disclaimer:** Read this and weep, for I am not J.K. Rowling and thus have no secrets to give you about anything concerning Harry Potter. The plot is mere speculation on my part and the characters most definitely do _not_ belong to me.

**Chapter Six:** Wasted Clues on the Oblivious

_June, Fifth Year_

Somehow, I've found myself in the company of Marlene again.

She and Alice have taken it upon themselves to settle into the train compartment and basically keep me company. I can't say that I object to that. They saved me from almost ending up with Bertha Jorkins in the compartment. She's been quite nosy around me ever since that encounter with Potter and Black down by the lake.

"I still think they're quite handsome," Marlene said quietly while she blushed at me.

Alice just laughed as she glanced at my reaction. "Are you serious?" I asked, looking up at her in surprise, "They were hexing Snape for no reason. Granted Snape is a git, but that doesn't mean you hex him for no reason."

I had become a little less popular since I took my stance against Potter and Black a few days ago. A far amount of people thought me to be stupid for sticking up for Snape. 'He's a slimy git,' they'd say, 'Those two were quite right to hex him.'

Alice looked at me again. "You're right," she started but wrinkled her nose in dislike as she continued, "But Snape was foul in calling you a 'mud-blood'."

I nodded and glanced out the train window, staring at the countryside fly past me. I thought some more about what Potter had said to me.

_"Well, it's more that fact that he _exists_, if you know what I mean..."_

And for as angry as that made me feel, that someone could be that biased against someone** (A/N- A little humor for you, as Lily's pretty biased herself)**, I couldn't help but think about something else he had said—

"It was nice how James stuck up for you," Marlene commented, playing with a lock of her golden hair between her fingertips, "He looked really angry with Snape, even once you'd left."

Thinking about what she had just said, I smiled slightly. Even though I hadn't wanted Potter to _make_ Snape apologize to me, it was kind of nice to know that his fury about the incident hadn't flamed out once I took the liberty of leaving. Even if I still thought he was a prat, himself.

But when I thought about it, that still didn't excuse what he had done. He had originally attacked Snape (from what I could see down by the lake) on his own accord, just because he seemingly had nothing better to do.

I was shaken out of my reverie as Alice piped up again.

"I personally thought it was wonderful when Lily was yelling at James," she said, a slight grin playing on her face. "What was it again…? Something like, 'I'm surprised the broomstick can get of the ground with your fat head on it.' The look on his face was priceless."

I have to say, I was a bit shocked to here Alice say that. Usually, she was so shy; the quietest in our dormitory. I shared a glance with Marlene, who by the looks of it, appeared just as stunned as I felt. Nonetheless, I felt my cheeks go a bit red as Alice went on.

"He deserved it though," she stated fervently, "People regularly expect to be hexed in the corridors because of him and his mates, as handsome though they may be."

She added the last bit as an afterthought and winked at me, already knowing my opinion on those boys' charm.

Marlene sighed dreamily while Alice and I exchanged a laugh.

Charming and handsome… It was a pity they didn't come with a pin to deflate their heads. Then they might actually be attractive.

"It's a shame," I added, smiling slyly, "All of that allure and good looks wasted away…"

Marlene sat up straighter and snorted in disbelief. She couldn't even get any words out to disagree with me.

* * *

The train ride was quite enjoyable after that. We played a game of exploding snap which took quite a bit of time and every now and then people would come and visit with us, talking about what was now referred to as 'the lake incident'. A couple Prefects and the Head Girl actually came in at one point to congratulate me for, as Frank Longbottom put it, "Handing Potter his arse on a plate." 

"Really," Gideon Prewett said proudly, smiling at me, "He's been too arrogant for too long. Setting of fireworks in the corridors while Prefects were on night patrol wasn't exactly the nicest thing to do. And the hexing in the corridors never helped us either."

"I keep telling Remus that his friends are a little, well, crazy but he doesn't seem to notice. Though he did help me out when Sirius was about to hex me once," Davey Gudgeon interrupted resolutely.

Alice smiled at me and I noticed her blush as Frank Longbottom stole glances at her in between snatches of our conversation. I had to hold in the feeling of laughter rising up to my lips.

The ride went on much like that and eventually, after some more conversation, Marlene declared that she was going off to find James Potter and Sirius Black to catch one last glance of them before she left the train for summer holidays.

She left Alice and me laughing quietly in her wake.

"See," she told me, smiling once more, "Most of the school thinks you're brave yet crazy."

"Crazy?"

I gave her a look of inquiry.

"Well," she looked back at me quite plainly, "You did stand up to Potter and his friends."

"I see your point," I replied, shifting in my seat a bit. Those boys hadn't been to keen on me after that. Mostly they avoided me in the common room and the corridors. I didn't truly care that much, to be honest.

"It was odd, his reaction, though," she remarked as I watched her smile twist into a puzzled expression and her eyes glaze over as she remembered the incident. My gaze followed her intently as she continued. "He seemed quite surprised and almost hurt after you left."

She looked up, trying to gauge my reaction.

"Probably from that gash on his cheek," I responded logically. "It looked like it really hurt."

"Maybe…," she agreed half-heartedly and trailed off, looking out the window.

I sensed the feeling that I was missing something big but I didn't quite know what it was. Alice had always been much better at reading people's emotions than I had. James didn't seem too put out to me. I don't know. Maybe I had missing something. Oh well. It wasn't like I could be expecting a memo on his feelings anytime soon, especially, as Alice had said, after the way I had insulted him.

**A/N- Okay, still not as long as I had expected but this is where I'm going to stop writing the chapter. Although, I like how this chapter turned out better in comparisonthan the last one. I'll just hope that next time I'll write more. Please review and tell me your thoughts on this.**


	7. Full of Surprises

**_Once Upon a Miserable Girl's Plight..._**

**A/N- Hey! This chapter is dedicated to Lacey, as today is her birthday and it is apparently not going so well. So here's to Lacey! She's a great person who should be having a wonderful birthday!**

**-Kait**

**Disclaimer** Read this and weep, for I am not J.K. Rowling and thus have no secrets to give you about anything concerning Harry Potter. The plot is mere speculation on my part and the characters most definitely do _not_ belong to me.

**Chapter Seven:** Full of Surprises

_November, Sixth Year_

This is the first time in a long time, mind you, that I have gotten myself up so early. I think it was because I had some funny dreams last night that I really wish could just be banished away but instead, they are burned into my memory. The torturous nightmares I had once had about my mother were now replaced by odd dreams about a boy and a girl whose faces I could never seem to place. I suppose if I confided these dreams into Professor Trelawney during Divination she would determinedly tell me in that feigned foggy voice that this meant I was go to be killed by a giant broomstick, whacking me in the back of the head every time I mentioned something about going to the bathroom.

But I digress. The common room is fairly quiet and undisturbed at the moment. I say 'at the moment' because James Potter has just clamored through the portrait hole and rarely anything goes undisturbed by him when he is around.

He is surprisingly quiet, though. It's almost as though he doesn't notice I'm in the room. Perhaps he doesn't, as he is a bit busy examining his arms as I watch him wander over to a couch on the other side of the room and groan as he tries to sit down slowly. Maybe Potter is literally beginning to feel what a pain in the arse he is. Though, thinking about it, I wouldn't want to get my hopes up.

My thoughts are interrupted as I watch him more closely; he is acting curiously. This whole year in particular, he has been quieter about things. For one thing, he has made life easier for Prefects since he has stopped hexing people for no reason in the corridors. Alice says it's because I taught him a lesson last year down by the lake. But I know better than to believe that. Since when do boys like Potter care what girls like me think? They'd no soon sell their broomstick than listen to something we said to insult them.

I turn my gaze, which has wondered to the window to watch the sun rise up brilliantly, back to Potter. As some light begins to pour into the room through the windows, I looked at him in shock. He was nursing bruises on his battered upper arms. I felt my demeanor change softly. I knew Potter wasn't liked by some, but why hadn't he defended himself?

Watching him try to lighten the bruises with a spell while he grimaced in pain, I started to feel pity for him. I felt like I should go over and help him. Help him? Why would I want to help him? I didn't want anything to do with him. Nonetheless, I felt my feet dragging themselves toward him and there was nothing I could do to stop myself.

"Do you want some help?" I asked, my feet halting a few lengths in front of him.

He jumped up in shock and covered his arms with his robes that I knew he must be in intense pain right now. I backed away cautiously; James did not look angry but I just had this feeling that he was going to begin hexing people again, starting with me.

To my surprise, he started backing away too. "No, I'm," he choked to get the words out, "—Fine… Just got pummeled by the Whomping Willow."

"At breakfast?" I inquired, glancing at my watch and then back at him. His face looked anxious and contorted. It was one of the oddest things I had ever witnessed. I supposed it must be because I was so used to it looking haughtily at me.

"A friend and I…tried to get past it—Stupid idea," he said trying his best to give me a sheepish smile but failing.

I opened my mouth to continue this curious conversation but with that he rushed out of his seat and up the dormitory steps.

Well, if I hadn't been wondering before, now I certainly was.

* * *

Walking with Alice to Potions class a couple days later, I started explaining again what I had seen to her. Maybe she could sort it out better than I could.

"I don't know, Lily," she said, biting her lip nervously, "Whatever he was doing, though, it must have been dangerous."

I nodded at her. It was nice to have someone to confide in. I had been quite lonely since, well, since my mom passed away. Alice and I had been writing letters over the summer and now we spent lot of our time looking up hexes to curse my sister Petunia with. She had been very mean the day Alice came to visit me but me Dad on the other hand, was more cheerful than he had been in ages. He just kept saying that he was glad I was learning to "move on." I suppose I had, in some ways, but some people I believed still couldn't be trusted. But that was a whole other story for a different day.

"I'd never seen bruises like that," I started but Alice hushed me and pointed a finger in the direction of James and his friend Sirius who were hurrying down the hall behind us, talking in low tones as well.

I took her by the arm and ushered her quickly into the classroom. There was no thinking what James and Sirius might have in mind for me, if they saw me in front of them. We took our seats quickly behind a couple Slytherins as James and Sirius walked through the room, their eyes narrowing slightly as they spotted me. What, did they think I knew too much? The only thing I knew was that I had never seen purple bruises like the ones I saw on James' arms.

They took their seats just as the bell had rung and Professor Slughorn strolled into the room.

"Today," he said enthusiastically, "We are going to start a complex potion known as the Polyjuice potion. Does anyone know its properties?"

I watched as two hands went in the air. Alice's and Severus Snape's.

"Yes?" he asked knowingly, pointing at Snape.

"It allows a person to transform into looking exactly like another person. Its effects only last for about an hour, of course."

"Ten points to Slytherin." Professor Slughorn went on genially, "I'm going to arrange you in groups of two to concoct the potion over the next month and at the end of it, we shall see just who knows what it takes to walk in another's shoes."

I heard a couple of people laugh and listen intently as he put us in pairs.

"Pettigrew and Black, Nott and Lupin, Avery and Crabbe, Potter and Walsh, Evans and Snape…"

I stopped dead and whirled around to look at Alice. _Snape_ She just looked back at me hopelessly. I knew there wasn't anything Alice could do. I just, well, I think I'd rather work with Potter than Snape. Not that you would ever hear me admit that to James' face.

"Just ignore anything he says to you," Alice advised me as she hurried over to James and Snape brought his cauldron over to mine.

I still hadn't forgotten what he had said to me, down by the lake last year. I had not really thought about how him calling me a "mud-blood" made me feel. I decided that I didn't care. He was a slimy git, and he didn't seem to care that people called him that.

Potions, for the most part was thoroughly unentertaining and uneventful. Except for the few occasional disagreements about instructions I got through the class without any major complaints. But as I walked out of class and waited for Alice, I was taken aback to see that she had a smirk on her face.

"What happened?"

She continued down the hall with me, smiling. "He couldn't stop talking about you."


	8. Lurking in Dangerous Territory

**_Once Upon a Miserable Girl's Plight..._**

**Disclaimer** Read this and weep, for I am not J.K. Rowling and thus have no secrets to give you about anything concerning Harry Potter. The plot is mere speculation on my part and the characters most definitely do _not_ belong to me.

**Chapter Eight:** Lurking in Dangerous Territory

_May, Sixth Year_

I swear; James Potter is a nutter. His behavior has become more erratic over the past months; ever since I saw him nursing those bruises back a couple of months ago. I only notice because he's in my house, Gryffindor. It's not like I care or anything... It's just very...curious.

Oh, Alice had been going on for months about how, in Potions (as she was his partner for the year) he kept bringing up subtle references to me. I felt the need to point out to her again that he was probably trying to figure out the best way to black mail me; after all, I had seen him with those odd bruises.

"Come 'on, Lily, it's not like that," she chided me over dinner once while she helped herself to some stuffed turkey. "He's really sweet when he mentions you. It's almost like he's shy about it."

"Shy? Potter?" I held the urge to snort in my mashed potatoes and said, "There's not any room for him to be shy. He's too busy being arrogant."

"Not anymore," was her candid reply. "Not since—"

"I know, Alice," I interrupted, starting to become very bored with this conversation. "Not since last year, when my little insult parade in his honor 'changed him'...Supposedly."

She laughed at me. "For someone so observant, you're quite blind half of the time."

I knew better than to feel insulted by that. Alice never said anything out of spite or anything that she didn't truly believe, so if I was as naive as she thought, who was I to try to correct her? Besides, I knew I would never get too far.

But anyways, Potter seemed to be quietly tracking me these days. Like in Potions class, when his eyes always seemed to stray in the direction of Severus Snape and me while we worked on our potion. Actually, in today's class, his friend Sirius took the liberty of coming over to us, punching Snape in the shoulder and then whispering something stealthily into his ear, wand out. I swear that if Sirius is telling him something to help in causing Severus' untimely death, I will hex him. As much as I hate Snape, I need his help to pass Potions. After all, you cannot to a partner potions project with only one person. Couldn't he just wait to seek some sort of twisted revenge (no doubt, that is probably what it was) until _after_ the term was over?

So that night in the common room, after Alice had retired to the dormitory, I wasn't as surprised as I might have been to hear three invisible voices whisper around the portrait hole while I pretended to be buried in my reading.

"Is it safe to open it now?" One voice whispered nonchalantly.

"Yeah, I think so, Padfoot," another voice, though more hoarse, piped up reasonably.

I watched curiously out of the corner of my eye as the portrait hole opened slowly and cautiously. I glanced around. For a bunch of Gryffindors, you would think I wouldn't be the only one who spotted something going on by the common room entrance. How receptive they all were, really.

"No one on the map," yet another voice timidly stated.

Then it hushed up. I hastily set my books aside and hurried over to the closing portrait. If I opened it quickly and quietly, I just might catch them before they decided to do something stupid. I climbed noiselessly out of the common room and listened intently for footsteps.

I could hear them, but only just. Obviously they had snuck out like this before because they barely made a sound as they walked through the vacant corridors. I made sure to keep an eye out for teachers because I figured that it would be pointless following them if I was the one to get caught.

The footsteps stopped briefly at the Entrance Hall and I moved into the Great Hall, behind the great wooden doors and stood in silence. My breathing was heavy. _What was going to happen next? Was this where they were going to stop? Were they going to pull a prank on someone? _It was like they read my mind; the answers came so fast.

"What?" the first voice said.

"Snape," the second replied in a mixture wonder and alarm. Suddenly, I recognized it as James' own. "Snape is just outside the castle. He looks like...," his voice faltered. "He looks like he's headed for the Whomping Willow."

My eyes widen in complete shock. What could he have possibly been thinking? As much as I hated to think it, that tree could kill him. I knew from Potions class that Snape was no idiot. A prat, maybe, but not completely stupid.

_He must have been provoked,_ I thought. _But what could it have been? Could it have been what Sirius said earlier to him?_

I contemplated going right out to them and telling James. He would know what to do.

I would have debated with myself further on the subject of James, but they three of them had started speaking again.

"Was that what it was in Potions?" James asked incredulously, not bothering to keep his voice down. "You were telling him how to get past the Willow?"

Personally, I figured that even if he had told Snape how to get past it, he would still get injured and badly. Did anyone remember what happen to Davey Gudgeon back in third year?

"Padfoot." Another voice came that I assumed to be Peter Pettigrew's, "I know you joked about it once...But, I... I never thought you were serious."

"Yeah, well, Snape deserved it," Sirius said rashly as I creaked the door open to see them and witnessed Sirius step out from what was probably an invisibility cloak, push open the huge door and step outside.

"Well, you're an idiot," James said in a harsh voice, taking the cloak off himself and Peter. "And he's about to find out about our friend."

And with that he rushed out the doors and sprinted down the lawns toward the Whomping Willow. I had no idea what to do at that point. Should I expose myself or rush out to help? I chose the latter as I watched Peter hurry out the great doors as well.

Once I reached the doors and was out on the grounds, Peter and Sirius were nowhere to be seen. I did, though, spot James once I got to the lake and watched in horror as he tried to fend off the Whomping Willow. It was the most brutal thing I had ever seen and I almost had half a mind to scream at him to get away... If only I hadn't been so shocked. Luckily, a few moments later the tree froze and I saw James disappear under its trunk.

As if to wake me from my trace, I heard a deafening howl and a loud, chilling scream.

It was coming from the willow.

There was a large, black dog whimpering frantically next to it and a few seconds later I saw James emerge again with a very white and stricken looking Severus Snape.

"Is that what you wanted?" he yelled in the dog's direction, but Sirius was still missing. "Are you happy now?"

But I didn't even attempt to listen for Sirius' answer because, as I watched Snape run up the path and past me, (though I don't think he noticed me) towards the castle, something else caught my eye. Something big and massive, making its way through the trunk of the Whomping Willow...

_This must have been what Severus saw_, I thought dimly as I stood there stupidly.

I was looking at something I had only seen pictures of in Defense Against the Dark Arts class. A real, live werewolf.

My heart my pounding faster than a bloody time bomb.

Running away seemed like a good idea but my feet stayed planted to the ground. I must have been too surprised to actually, you know, physically move. Would've been a bright idea, though.

"Evans?" James' voice called out in shock as the dog barked madly at him and pulled him out of the werewolf's path. Unfortunately, that left me free for the taking.

The creature didn't notice me at first. He was a bit busy figuring out exactly where he was, I think. But once he had that sorted out, he realized I was there and probably saw that I was pretty dumbstruck. Luckily that great dog that had pulled James aside before engaged his attention by clamping its jaws around its leg. The huge wolf howled in pain as he was starting to get dragged away. I stood there, still being my stupid self, unmoving.

Then, quite suddenly, this immense stag showed up at my side, poking me in the shoulder madly as though beckoning me to get on to get away.

I didn't even take the time to think if I should really trust another beast that could, quite possibly, trample me to death or something. Instead I swiftly jumped on its back. It cantered away from the danger so quickly I didn't even have a chance to look back and figure out which one of the animals was howling in pain now.

It only stopped when it had reached the castle and dropped me there safely. I sat on the steps of entrance doors feeling severely shaken. The stag paused for a second, as if it wanted to say something to me and I looked into the dark pools of its eyes and saw…what looked like concern. It made me feel almost like I had to justify why I had been caught in that kind of situation to it.

Our eye contact was only broken as we heard another howl of pain and could see the shadowy figure of a werewolf being desperately pushed back into the hole at the trunk of the Whomping Willow.

It must have been the horrified look on my face that made him do it, but once it was sufficiently clear that the werewolf was no longer out in the open, the stag revealed itself to be none other than James Potter.

"Are you okay?" he asked, his eyes searching my face for a sign that I was all right.

I feebly attempted to smile. It didn't work too well.

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Peter hurrying up the pathway with Sirius, who was walking fine, but bleeding quite a bit on his arm.

James narrowed his eyes in anger as he saw Sirius and quickly pulled me up by the arm, leading the way through the entrance doors. "Everyone under the cloak," he said roughly.

Sirius gave him a feeble look but no one said a word. In fact, the whole way up to the Gryffindor tower, it was silent. It probably would have been unnerving for me, had I not felt so shaken up by what I had witnessed.

Once we got through the portrait hole, the talking started, though.

"Prongs, I—"

"Save it, Sirius," James said shortly. He was clearly very angry with him. "I'll hear about it later I'm sure. Your brilliant idea of how this all made sense in your head. But right now, I have to go keep Snape from telling everyone in the school about what Remus is."

I made like I was going to go up the dormitory steps but as James turned around to leave he spotted me.

"Stay here," he said softly before he left through the portrait hole. "I need to talk to you as well."

I stood in shock. Why would he need to talk to me? Well, yes, he would probably want to make sure I didn't go around talking about the werewolf and…

Had he just said that the werewolf was _Remus?_

How could that be? Remus was nice and… Oh…gone at least once a month… Suddenly it all made sense. Including the fact that Remus couldn't possibly have as many dead relatives as he claimed he did.

I sat so deep in my thoughts, pondering all of what had happened tonight and all its ramifications, that I didn't even realize Sirius and Peter had left for their dormitories until James came back about an hour later.

"So the prats left, then?"

I looked up and was surprised at how nervous he was beginning to make me feel.

"Yes, I suppose." I started to find my voice, as I sat there on a couch, "Snape isn't going to tell anyone about Remus, is he?"

"No," James replied, looking almost…weary. "Dumbledore talked to him about it."

"Oh," I said blankly. I wasn't quite sure what else to say or why I cared if people knew about Remus or not. I just guess it was because he'd always been nice to me, as a Prefect and all, and it would be devastating if people found out. Everyone would inch away from him in the corridors, probably send him death notes or something and I couldn't bear to see someone so nice be a victim of prejudice. It wasn't like he had _chosen_ to be that way…

"You aren't going to say anything either, are you?"

He looked anxious, almost like he wasn't sure if he could trust me. I didn't blame him. I hadn't been to keen on him so far.

"No," I responded as he visibly breathed a sigh of relief.

"Good," he said and he sat down next to me. I think this was the first time all night he had gotten the chance to relax for a moment.

It struck me then just how old he looked. Normally, when I thought about him, I thought of his childish antics and how he used to hex people in the hallways but now I thought about how he pulled Snape out of the tree, desperate to get him away from danger. And this was how he treated someone he loathed. It almost made me…admire him. Because the more I thought about it, I wondered if I would be willing to risk my life like that for someone I couldn't stand and honestly, I didn't know what I would do.

"But you're okay, right?" he asked me and again the worried look that seemed glued to his face tonight crept onto it again. I noticed him starting to get up from his seat, wand out. "Because if you aren't, I'll just curse Sirius—"

I grabbed his arm to keep him from going up to his dormitory and reeking havoc on his best friend.

"I'm fine, honestly."

He looked at me, almost questioningly, but sat back down again. I noticed how weird it felt to be holding onto his arm like that and dropped it from my grasp immediately.

"It was my fault anyway," I said and looking out the window bitterly, I continued, "I heard you all leaving the common room and I was just stupid enough to follow you outside."

"You're not stupid," he chided me in a voice that almost mirrored one my mother used to use on me.

I smiled slightly and glanced at him. "Well, now it's debatable."

He laughed softly and smiled as well. "I always thought you were funny."

"Me too," I said, feeling odd at the way I was staring at him. I couldn't seem to avert my eyes away from his. It was like when he beckoned me as a stag to get on his back so he could lead me away from danger, now he was beckoning me to look into his deep, hazel eyes…

I felt myself falling… And as he leaned in (most likely scenario: to kiss me), I finally got myself to turn away…

But I couldn't help but think, after I had rushed away from him and up the dormitory steps into my room, that I was finally beginning to feel something I hadn't felt so strongly since I had looked into my mother's eyes. Though it was a bit different… And it scared me more than I'm sure my mother would have ever hoped it would.

**A/N-** **To Queen of Duct Tape- If you like stories where people play match-maker, read my story _Marauders' Match-making Inc._ It's not nearly as depressing as this one (most people say it's quite funny). Sorry, a little shameless self-promotion there... And I love the phrase, "But I digress" as well and I will try not to make you cry. LoL. Thanks for your reviews; they're always a treat to read.**


	9. Bewitched by Charm

**_Once Upon a Miserable Girl's Plight..._**

**Disclaimer** Read this and weep, for I am not J.K. Rowling and thus have no secrets to give you about anything concerning Harry Potter. The plot is mere speculation on my part and the characters most definitely do _not_ belong to me.

**Chapter Nine:** Bewitched by Charm

_June, Sixth Year_

He rumples his messy hair, seemingly carelessly as he glides past my compartment and I can't help but think...

Yet another train ride where I sit thinking and confusing myself on the subject of James Potter.

It's brilliant, really. I haven't talked to him or basically looked at him in two weeks and yet the memory of that night is plaguing my mind.

You know I still have yet to thank him for saving my life? That's how messed up I've become.

I wish Alice would say something. The silence in the compartment while we watch James Potter walk by is going to stifle me into a long and torturous death any moment now.

I'll just sit here and wait for it to come while chastising myself again for turning away that night...

Why am I doing that again? Why do I want to know what it's like to kiss James Potter anyway? It's probably just like kissing any other boy.

...Not that I would really know. Oh, I wish I could just tell my conscience to stop talking.

Luckily, Alice (she likes to think of herself as my external conscience) finally says something.

"Cute boy walking by there, Lily...," she teased.

"Oh bloody hell," I mumbled, ready to hurt the next person who mentions that. "First Marlene, now you?"

Alice chucked and let a smile escape from her lips. "No, but I still don't understand why you turned away. I know I wouldn't have."

"Alice," I said indignantly while I looked at her incredulously, "What about Frank?"

She blushed but then managed an unnatural reply. Well, unnatural for her, at least. "Like I said, have you seen James?"

Upon reflection, I decided not to respond to that comment. "Maybe I turned away because," I thought, searching for a reason and going on eagerly, "I don't like him."

Alice gave me a critical look from her seat across from me.

"Well, he's nice, but I don't have feelings for him," I replied, correcting my answer.

"Tell him that, then," she responded sensibly. To my confusion, she got up after that bit of advice and left the compartment.

"Alice," I called, sticking my head out the compartment door. The only problem was that I didn't see Alice outside the door. I did see James Potter though, waiting to get in.

"All full," I said automatically when he started towards me. I really (and I mean this more than I have ever meant anything in my life) didn't want to talk to him. Couldn't we just let this go until after the summer?

I don't know I why was the one who was so not ready for this. After all, James was the one who had been left to feel stupid when I ran away from him that night. But I just didn't want him near me... I was afraid, I'll admit, at the affect he seemed to have on me as of late. There was no telling what I would do if he tried to kiss me again. Damn my curiosity. But as Alice had tried to explain to me, I think it might have a bit more to do with something other than curiosity.

"Unless you have three invisible friends in there with you," he stated rationally, cool as could be, "I highly doubt it's full."

How could he act so _reasonably?_ It was as though nothing had happened between us. Oh, that's right... Nothing had because of my turning away. But it was even as though he had never saved my life as well.

_Maybe he didn't think of me that way_, I thought, my mind racing. _Maybe he thought that everything that night was a mistake. Although, that night, he probably would have been better served to have just let the werewolf rip me to shreds instead of getting...well, rejected, when you thought about._

"How do you know that story isn't completely true?" I asked, trying to retain my normal composure. If you could even call what I had normally 'composure'.

I stepped away from the doorway. Impulse, I think. If I had been in right mind there would be no way I would let him in so close to me.

He smiled at me and came in. "Because, from what I know of you, I bet you would have no tolerance for imagery friends."

I sat down and he did the same. Luckily he got the hint when I sat down and let my body take up the entire seat to sit across from me. _Swift one we've on here, Bob._

"I suppose not," I replied unwillingly with a sigh. The sooner I got him to talk about why he'd felt the need to sit with me, I supposed that meant he'd be gone sooner.

He looked comfortable sitting there one moment, throwing joking banter back and forth, but now he looked...nervous. Marlene will tell you, like she's told me numerous times, James Potter never gets nervous. So why would he get nervous around me?

"Lily," he started softly, looking at me seriously, "I know I probably, well, scared you a few nights ago when I tried to...kiss you," he could barely get the words out, "but I think I'd be better if we could just forget it, maybe?"

I wanted to laugh, but I thought that might be a little cruel on my part (though not intentional) so instead I just nodded. Relief was washing over me, and the little bit of unhappiness I felt I banished away quickly. It was better this way, really.

"Right," I said with a small smile. "It's probably better that way."

He looked a little bit like what I was feeling at the moment. His expression changed instantly when he went on and asked me a question he seemed to have pent up for a while. "Why do you hate me?"

"I don't," I said simply. "I've never _hated_ you. Strong dislike, maybe," he smiled at that, "but never hate. Although, after saving my life, I'd have to say I'm very far from hating you."

He grinned some more. "Well, that works in my favor, then."

"Thanks for saving my life, though," I added sincerely, finally looking him in the eyes. "I didn't have a chance to thank you properly that night."

"Well, I highly doubted that you wanted to become a werewolf."

I shuddered slightly, but laughed with him.

"No, you're right. I didn't."

Then the silence settled in. It was a bit unnerving. As though that sensation hadn't been bad enough while just being in his company, it was worse when things were quiet. We just sat there smiling timidly at one another, I think, not really sure what to say next for fear of saying the wrong thing.

"So...," I started conversationally as he brought his eyes up to mine, "I saw you in the Quidditch final last month and I must say, even though I'm not all that familiar with Quidditch, you were really great."

His eyes seemed to shine with pride as I smiled at him. "Yeah, I guess I did okay," he seemed to want to get off the topic quickly, as though if he continued with it he'd say a bit more than he wanted. "But if you want, I could explain the rules to you."

"Really?" I said, hoping he could shed some light on the sport. "That'd be wonderful."

"Okay."

And with that, he launched into a long and complicated explanation that if I tried to recite for you, I'd probably implode. Not that it wasn't informative; on the contrary now I was highly versed in the details of Quidditch, it just took up half the train ride. The other half was spent first clearing up the fact that he was Animagi (which truly impressed me, to be honest and explained what had happened that night two weeks ago) and then talking about the jokes he had pulled over the years while he explained the back story to them. Suddenly, half of the unusual things that happened in Hogwarts had reasons behind them. Granted, not all of the reasons glittered like gold, but they were reasons nonetheless.

"So the armor four Christmases ago--"

"Bewitched to follow McGonagall around and try and kiss her every time she stopped," he said, answering me promptly with a boyish grin on his face.

"You know one of them tried to attack Flitwick when he attempted to take the charm off," I stated, thinking back to my third year. "It was one of the funniest things I'd even seen. This poor little man trying to escape a huge coat of armor."

"The charm never came off did it?" James asked wisely, looking at me to clarify, "You've noticed that they still move around the corridors, right? They just don't follow McGonagall anymore."

I laughed and felt more comfortable than I had with someone (other than Alice) in weeks. "Yes, those bloody things never stay in one place. It always confuses me."

"Eh, well, Flitwick said that it was some good magic so he'll just let it wear off. He said that they'll probably stop moving around in a couple years."

James grinned again and laughed. I did as well. It was a shame, really, that I could see the platform coming up out of my window.

"That'll be the train station, I guess," James said with what sounded like disappointment.

I smiled lightly at him, "Well, I'll see you next year, then Potter."

He smiled back at took down my trunk. "I'd better go get my own, but you could probably write me, if you want. You've got an owl, right?"

I held up the cage as an answer. "Good," he took out some parchment, scribbled something on it quickly and handed it to me, "Just address it to here."

He let a grin light up his handsome face again and then took off with a quick, "'Bye, Evans."

"See you, Potter," I called lightly, pocketing the parchment and heaving my trunk off the train.

But I couldn't help but think as I sat in the car, my father driving us home, about James Potter. Did I really want to write him over the summer? Sure, we seemed to have gotten along quite well, but did I really want to become a sort of friend with him? What would become of that?

I wondered sometimes about the situations I got myself into.


	10. The Gall of James Potter

**_Once Upon a Miserable Girl's Plight..._**

**A/N- Hey everyone! Last chapter... And to think, I didn't think I'd be able to finish this before the release of the "Half Blood Prince". It does feel fitting that this story end on the eve of the event you've been waiting for (I posted this a bit early so you would have time to read it before reading HBP) so I'll try and make this little note brief. **

**To explain- I wanted to write the letters so you could see the progression of the relationship for yourself, but there wasn't any time and letters are the kind of thing that I would be mulling over for weeks so it's better off without them.**

**To reviewers- Thanks for reading and giving me your input. Both the criticism and the praise (as well as your funny stories that made me laugh) did not go unnoticed. I encourage you to check out some of my other stories under my profile too... though not because I want tons of reviews or anything but because I'm eager to see what you guys think about them. You all are awesome at reviewing and showing me where I can improve my writing, the plot, etc... So thank you. It has been a pleasure writing this. **

**Oh well, so much for being concise...**

**-Kait**

**Disclaimer** Read this and weep, for I am not J.K. Rowling and thus have no secrets to give you about anything concerning Harry Potter. The plot is mere speculation on my part and the characters most definitely do _not_ belong to me.

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**Chapter Ten:** The Gall of James Potter

_September, Seventh Year_

I had thrown most of the letters into the bottom of my trunk. It was an odd feeling, to be honest. I didn't want to destroy them...but I wanted to get them as far away from my sight as possible. It made no sense. I wanted to believe everything he had said in them was true, but I didn't want to trust him. Words could be twisted at will and I had learned that much too young. Who was to say if he had meant every word or if he was laughing at my potential gullibility right this moment?

Anyway, I hadn't replied to him. I had decided not to encourage him whether his intentions true or otherwise. It was better that way, I told myself continually.

Alice, at any rate, thought me an idiot.

"He's the Head Boy and you're Head Girl; how is it even possible for you to avoid him?" she had challenged me.

But as I walked up the steps with her and into Hogwarts I felt that it had to be possible, at least for a little bit. He couldn't love me, he just couldn't.

Why did he have to go and say those three stupid little words? We had been getting along fine and I had been starting to feel more comfortable with him. Now I just felt confused and a bit horrified. I liked writing letters to him; telling him trivial things about my day that might not seem important to the general onlooker, but felt normal to tell him about. I told him about Petunia and how she freaked out every time I apparated down to breakfast or from Diagon Alley (in the last letter I wrote him).

After a while, it had felt so normal to confide in him the way I did. He always replied so patiently and never seemed to run out clever anecdotes to take my mind off of my father's dwindling health or my sister's increased efforts in her pursuit to avoid and ignore me. I had felt as though my family was slipping away, like sand through my fingers. I couldn't stop them from disappearing, but I could confide in James and lean on his letters to keep me from falling as well. I could feel it now; I had put too much of my trust in him.

How was I to know I could trust him? Sure, I felt something for him, or I probably wouldn't have spent my summer writing to him whenever I got the chance (Alice informed me, of course). It was just fact that I was letting my emotions cloud my logic that infuriated me. And I hated that he did that to me. He was just a boy and I every time I questioned myself more about him, the more I got confused.

I was scared. Not just because I didn't trust boys but because of my horrible wanting for him to sincerely mean what he had written. Why did I want him to love me? I shuddered at the possibility of love normally so why did he make me defy everything I believed in? Or thought I believed in, I suppose.

Just what I need, really. _More questions for myself to sort out_, I thought as I entered the Great Hall and avoided a certain person's eyes. _If I didn't have _enough_ to sort out already..._

At that, I sat down with Alice at the Gryffindor table and watched blankly as the Sorting began...

-------------------------------------

So far, I had done fairly well in my efforts in elude him. He and I only had a few classes together, so I made sure to sit next Alice and some of her other friends, or better yet in front of Severus Snape when we had lessons with the Sytherins. I thought that in a few weeks or so he might get the hint and move on to another girl. Yet, it disturbed me how upsetting the thought of James pouring his affections onto someone else made me feel.

In the halls, I kept my head down and buried in a book. The less he could see of me meant the less likely he was to recognize me. I did the same at meals, if I decided to venture into the Great Hall. For the most part, I got a steady intake of food from the house elves and Alice. She grudgingly brought me breakfast every morning while lecturing me on how if I would just "talk to him already and you wouldn't have to get other people to sneak food to you as if you are a prisoner." All other meals I got from the kitchens either two hours before the meal started or two hours after, depending on where I noticed Potter to be at the time.

Unluckily, I couldn't avoid him the first Head meeting with the headmaster, as Alice had pointed out to me. Suddenly, I wished I could hand that shiny badge over to someone like Marlene, who wanted to spend as much time as she could with him.

I arrived slightly late, just so I could be sure I wouldn't end up walking there with him.

As I entered his office ("Peppermint toads!") Professor Dumbledore smiled lightly and I noticed James in the corner smile an almost sad smile as well.

"So, I believe it is safe to assume that you both know why you are here?"

We nodded. Well, I did and I didn't look over at James but I supposed he did because Professor Dumbledore went on.

"As you know," he started, his blue eyes twinkling as he sat down and gestured for us to do the same. I did, feeling more uncomfortable by the minute and he continued, "Being named Head Girl or Boy bestows a particular sort of honor upon you and I daresay you feel that honor. There are many duties that come with such an honor, as there always is, and I hope that you can fulfill these duties successfully. Your first duty, as you may have already guessed, is to arrange Prefect meetings. These meeting will help..."

I listened as best I could but having James there, sitting next to me, was so distracting. He confused me so much. Now, the one moment he had to look at me without my head buried in a book or concentrated on the classes I was in and he was sitting there listening to Dumbledore? I suppose he had finally decided after the past week that I wasn't worth it.

My heart sank when I thought of that. But I told myself not to care. I didn't want him to feel anything for me, if he really did, that is.

It was lucky that I already knew what the duties of Head Girl entailed; otherwise I would be spending my time in a very foolish manner. I would just be content (for the most part) when this meeting was over and I could retreat as quickly as possible to my dormitory.

Luckily for me, the meeting was very short. I had shaken Professor Dumbledore's hand and gotten out of his ornate office faster than I expected.

"Lily!" a voice called from behind me, but I only sped up more quickly.

I had reached the third corridor and was almost halfway to Gryffindor Tower before I let myself pause to listen behind me.

Was that it? Just one try to get my attention and then he had given up? I suppose I couldn't expect much, I had, after all, been treating him like dirt. Was that any way to treat someone you loved?

Oh no, I take that back. I didn't love him; I didn't love him, I _couldn't_ love him...

Love was just another emotion that could trick you into stupid things and make you so shallow you didn't even recognize yourself...

Quite abruptly, I felt someone take my arm and pull me backward. I almost had the urge to scream.

He was standing there holding my arm in his hand as though he had popped out of nowhere. He looked upset, maybe even angry... I couldn't tell; I was too busy feeling shocked.

"Let go of my arm," I said, as calmly as I could.

"No," James replied firmly. "You haven't talked to me in weeks. You didn't even respond to my last letter... How can you just... I don't know, leave me hanging like this?"

I tried hopelessly to wrench my wrist from his grasp.

He looked into my eyes again when I didn't respond and added, "Don't you realize how I feel?"

I looked away. I felt unworthy of letting my eyes met his hazel ones. Didn't he realize that I wasn't...?

But suddenly, I couldn't think of any reason to doubt him or to question how I could possibly trust him because he pulled me towards him and met my lips with his.

It took me a second to register something other than the tingling sensation I felt when he kissed me. Once I noticed what exactly was happening, I brought my face away from his and started talking.

"Stop it," I chastised him loudly and glanced at his handsome face, "I can't be... I couldn't..."

As I trailed off and started to back away from him, he only seemed to hold onto my hand tighter.

"Then stop running from me," he said desperately, "Stop running and maybe I wouldn't have to get your attention that way."

He kissed me again and I attempted to push him away as he held me close in his arms like I might slip away at any second.

"Stop it, Potter," I replied back at him, trying despairingly to break free...

"I think it's about time you called me James," he murmured quietly.

I could feel tears well up in my eyes. _I was not going to cry_, I promised myself. _If I do that this will be just like any other moment in some sort of overdone romance on television._

"Lily...," he looked as utterly confused as I felt. "Say something. Do you really not feel anything for me?"

He loosed his arms around me and appeared so completely heartbroken that I went against everything I had just promised myself and broke down into tears. I let my head rest almost lifelessly on his shoulder as I thought recklessly. How could I put my messed, jumbled thoughts into words? He couldn't possibly understand how confused I was by all of this. He couldn't understand how content I was to be in his arms and how frightened I was that I let myself stay there. I wanted to love him but I didn't want to. I trusted him but I didn't. Nothing made any sense to me.

Why couldn't I have just died there right on the spot and put us both out of our misery?

Of course, that might mean a bit more misery on James' part but at least he wouldn't have to deal with a mental case such as myself.

Oh, why was I wasting time on such stupid thoughts...

"James," I began uncertainly and picked my head up off his shoulder to meet his gaze. "You can't love me; I'm too messed up to be loved."

He managed to chuckle softly as though I had just played a trick on him. "But I do. And you're not messed up."

"Yes, well, I'm having some trouble at the moment sorting everything out." I thought back to my mother. What would she have done in this situation? Well, first of all, she wouldn't have gotten into this kind of situation because she had been too much of a romantic to resist a person she loved. But right now, she would tell me to kiss him. And I wanted to do that but something in my brain kept telling me to stop. To think about everything I had learned about boys and love... And my mind was blank. I'd never been told what to expect if a boy really was in love with you. I had learned to be wary of boys but nothing about boys in love. And I had heard plenty on love; most of it was good... So why did I feel so scared?

"If you don't feel the same way, just tell me," he said simply, his eyes boring into mine.

Something inside me finally found the words.

"I do feel the same," I said softly, "I'm just scared."

He looked bewildered. "Of what?"

"You," I replied simply. I waited for the anger but it didn't come. So then I waited for an accusation but it didn't come either. So finally I just waited for him to speak again.

"I'm that scary?" he said with a small smile. "I love you, Lily. What is there to be scared of?"

I just looked at him, wondering how much I could tell him without putting trust in him or scaring him off. He watched me as well and patiently waited (which was unnatural for him) for my response.

"Your intentions," I answered, the thoughts I had pent up starting to babble helplessly out of my mouth, "Your feelings for me and how quickly they may change, how much trust I can put in you, how attached I could possibly become..."

"I'm not intending on breaking your heart, if that's what you mean," he stated defensively and interrupted me, his hazel eyes lighting up with irritation. I felt him loosened his grip on me yet again.

I felt hopeless. I might as well confess everything I had been feeling since my mom died. It would be hard, but at this point it seemed it was the only thing to make him understand how messed up I was.

That is, if he hadn't caught onto that fact yet.

"It's not just you," I began softly and brought my hand up to rest it on his shoulder. "It's everyone. I don't trust anyone; I don't let anyone in... I just... Let my emotions bottle up...and...hope they fizzle away or something."

I felt like an idiot, but I went on anyway. "I haven't been able to trust anyone since...," I could barely get the words out, "...Since my mom died and I... Sometimes I feel like I have to avoid it. ...Avoid love and then I won't get hurt again. I won't have to feel what it's like to be lost without someone you loved and...well, depended on so deeply for so long. ...So that's why I think I can't love you, I just can't."

James gave me a half-hearted smile (I think so that I wouldn't run off again) but his words were the most sincere things I'd ever heard uttered from his mouth. "Lily, if I ever die or let you down, I'll make sure that you're the one killing me...all because you got sick of me."

I choked out a laugh and started to hug him. Could I trust him? Did I love him? Even though I was still a little wary of him, I felt like the answer to both questions was yes.

I thought for a second, to make sure that I was willing to do this. Willing to let myself fall love with James Potter...

_She would have wanted it this way,_ a voice in my head piped up. And for once I was grateful for it. _She would have murdered me if I didn't at least _let_ myself fall for someone I loved once in my life. Actually, not just once, all times in my life, come to think of it..._

James was still glancing at me, waiting for me to reply, I think.

"I'll hold you to that, James."

He smiled at me uncertainly. I think he may have wanted to kiss me again, but he hesitated and waited for me...as though I was going to say something more.

I started to open my mouth but then I spotted Professor McGonagall briskly walking down the corridor in front of us. "Walk me to the tower?"

He appeared disappointed and glanced at me quizzically. I just pointed a quick finger at McGonagall and he nodded, taking my hand in his to lead us past her.

"Potter, Evans," she greeted us stiffly as she went past us, muttering something about Sirius Black.

"Evening," we responded together, briskly walking past her as well.

It was silent until we reached the tower; both of us relishing the fact that we were in the other's company. Once we were at the portrait hole, James spoke up again.

"So I suppose since you asked to go to the tower, you're giving me the first night of Head duties and patrolling?"

I grinned at him and said softly, realization dawning that I hadn't yet answered his main question of the night, "You know I love you, right?"

He huffed at me and smirked but looked pleased at the same time. "Now you're only saying that because you want me to oblige to you and take the first night duties."

"Honestly, no… I'm not," I said seriously and took my hand from his to lace both of them around his neck. I felt a wave of nerves just then as I moved in to kiss him. But suddenly, it didn't matter. As he kissed me back and deepened the kiss so that it felt more passionate, nothing seemed to matter. It didn't matter that I had felt I couldn't trust anyone... All that mattered was that he was here, he loved me, and he was kissing me back.

As we parted, I saw the look on his face mirrored what I felt. Utter bliss and contentment just to be with someone you cared about so deeply.

...Suddenly that hole in my heart that had felt so big after my mother's death felt so much smaller. Though not erased or forgotten... Just altered... So that I could make room for and depend on another, someone I hoped wouldn't let me down.

But as I watched his retreating back as he went off as he promised (to complete our Head duties) I felt like he wouldn't. I felt like even though I was slightly broken, he had the power to help me fix myself.

And I loved that he made me feel that way.

**The End (put here for the sake of clarification)**


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